Untitled
by Strawberries are cool
Summary: Matt gets kidnapped, and it's up to Mello to save him. Will he succeed, or fail? ...most likely fail. Rated T for language, violence in later chapters , and whatever else people complain about.  And I couldn't think of a title- -bite me.


Matt wandered the cold streets, attempting to find a place to rest. It was nearing midnight, and Matt could hardly see where he was going. His night vision was nothing to brag about-as he was beginning to realize. He was tired, he was annoyed, and he was being followed.

Though, one of those things he did not realize.

The redhead was too tired to listen and be on edge, and so he didn't hear the footsteps behind him. Following him, and gradually nearing closer.

Matt drew a deep breath, hesitantly stopping, and scanning the area. Nothing seemed promising. _Wonderful_, he thought to himself, exhaling. His breath slowly condensed, and he shivered. This reminded him of how badly he wanted a cigarette, as he had gone quite some time without one. As Matt began walking again, someone had grabbed his right arm, jerking him to a stop.

Just as Matt began to yelp, it was silenced. A damp, white cloth came over his face. At first, the young man struggled. He attempted to free himself, but it didn't work. His body slowly went limp, and the stranger had caught him.

* * *

"It was sorta odd, ya' know," a large man said to another man with a similar build. "He was makin' a lotta noise at first. Sounded almost like he was sayin' someone's name. 'Mero', or 'Mello', or something like that. Weird, huh?"

The other man nodded, then paused. "Mello..." He rubbed his chin, almost thoughtfully. "Hell, I swear I've heard that fuckin' name before. Sounds so familiar. Hell, maybe he was the other one who was causin' the boss trouble. It'd be pretty damn bad if that were the case, eh? What a fuckin' important thing to forget..."

The first man shrugged. "I think that if that were the case, we'd have remembered the guy's name. But, that don't matter. I'm gonna go check up on the prisoner." Without saying bye, or anything along those lines, he began walking out of the room.

-Matt's P.O.V.-

When I first woke up, my eyelids felt heavy as fuck. And it didn't help that my head felt like someone had beat it with a brick, spun me around for about twenty minutes, then thrown me down some stairs. Really, I couldn't do anything but stir, and groan.

I had known someone was in the room with me. Though, I guess it was sorta a good thing that I couldn't really get up...I really wouldn't have wanted the guy to fuck with me. He just sorta messed around for awhile, pacing and watching me. I could feel his gaze...and I'm surprised I didn't shudder. The fucker was staring me down.

I really wish I knew where I was, and I wish even more that there were some cigarettes, Ibuprofen, or pot to help with this headache. Oh, damn...cigarettes. I don't know when the last time I fucking had one of those was...but they sound perfect right now. The cure to everything...cancer? Oh fuck it, it's cigarettes. They're worth it.

When I could open my eyes, I was pretty damn relieved that the guy was gone. And as I began to move around more, I realized how sore I was. Not to mention, my neck felt like someone had twisted it, then left me to sleep on it for a few days. After awhile, I began to study my surroundings.

There was a cot, and flourescent lights. The walls were a dull gray, and the wallpaper was fading. There was the occasional brown spot-it looked like it was dried blood. And the floor was dirty, cold, and gray, just like the walls. Up in a high corner, on one of the walls, there was a speaker.

Fuckin' wonderful. In the case that I'm attacked in here, I'm pretty screwed. I'm really starting to wish I had worked out with Mello more often.

Mello.

Fucking Mello. It's probably his fault that I'm in here. Word to the wise...if your friend ever considers joining the mafia, immediately shoot them in the foot, and proceed to beat...I mean, talk...talk some sense into them. Trust me, they'll thank you later.

"Oh, fuck me," I muttered very quietly to myself as the only door in the room began to open. I quickly layed down, and closed my eyes, hoping that who ever was coming in would think I was sleeping. _Here fuckin' goes nothing._

_NNNNNNNNNNCLIFFHANGER._

_If I don't get reviews, I'll assume people don't like this, and I'll discontinue the story. c;  
_


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